


Special Assignment

by Ermingarde



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mission Fic, hoo boy do these two have a lot of baggage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:55:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27911878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ermingarde/pseuds/Ermingarde
Summary: There are some things Obi-Wan and 17 don't talk about.
Relationships: Alpha-17 & Shaak Ti, Alpha-17/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 86
Collections: Star Wars Rare Pairs 2020





	Special Assignment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [airas_story](https://archiveofourown.org/users/airas_story/gifts).



> I was so excited to see your prompt on the pinch hit list - I had to claim it right away! I hope you enjoy this little snippet. 
> 
> [Edit 12/12: I edited the fic to fix the formatting and managed to delete the very end. It's back now - sorry!]  
> [Edit 12/13: The strikethroughs should now _finally_ be in the correct places, and poor Shaak Ti is no longer pulling a "Timothy Cardinal Dolan." **shakes fist** Curse you, HTML!]

Rattatak was hell. There was no day or night there, only pain and the anticipation of pain. Kamino, Jabiim, Jango, his brothers - everything that made him who he was slipped away under Ventress's knife. In those cells, they were no longer General Kenobi and Lieutenant Alpha, the Jedi Master and the ARC trooper, but only two beings reaching blindly for each other in the dark. 

Some things you can't talk about. 

_

**TO: kenobi@jedi.pub**

**FROM: arc.a17@gar.mil**

**RE: Personal [DRAFT]**

**_Show edit history:_ ** **ON**

~~Obi-Wan~~ General Kenobi, 

I hope you are recovering well. ~~I was sure we were finally about to die when that _hut'uun_ Ventress dumped me in your cell, you were halfway there already and I wasn't far behind, but I should've known you wouldn't go down that easy. ~~

As you undoubtedly know, I have been reassigned to Kamino as a trainer for command-class cadets. The first group of my trainees will be shipping out within months. 

~~Sometimes I worry I'm too hard on the _vod'ike_ . But they need to learn, and I have so little time to make those lessons stick. The Seppies won't cut them any slack, so I can't either. If they aren't ready, they'll die. ~~

A significant part of the command cadets' lessons is about fighting alongside Jedi. They will be assigned to serve as seconds-in-command for Jedi generals, like I was for you. I don't think any of them really believe what I tell them about Jedi abilities - at least not until they see ~~Shaak~~ Master Ti wipe out a dozen training droids without breaking a sweat. ~~Frankly, though, she has nothing on you.~~

I hope your next posting is better than Jabiim. ~~I wish I were going with you.~~

V/r, 

ARC Cpt. Alpha-17 

**TO: arc.a17@gar.mil**

**FROM: kenobi@jedi.pub**

**RE: Re: Personal**

Captain, 

Thank you for your concern. I have been given a clean bill of health by the healers in the Temple and am back in the field. I am gratified to hear you have taken well to your new duties, and I look forward to meeting your trainees. 

I am afraid I cannot give the details of my current assignment, but rest assured it is indeed better than Jabiim - though it could scarcely be worse. 

May the Force be with you, 

OWK 

_

Since the start of the war, 17 had served alongside members of a handful of different species and encountered countless more. He knew the galaxy's inhabitants had vastly different cultures, physiologies, and, consequently, diets, and that what was unappealing to his sensibilities as a Mandalorian human raised on Kamino was perfectly natural and normal for someone of another species and background. 

He still tried to avoid lunch meetings with Shaak Ti. 

"How did the second cohort do with the obstacle course?" Shaak asked, between mouthfuls of what looked an awful lot like raw aiwha meat. 

"No injuries," 17 said, "but they're still much too slow in the wall assault." He took another bite of his more prosaic nutrient loaf. Shaak picked up her napkin and wiped blood off her lips before replying. 

"Is the issue with the climbing or their marksmanship?" 

When Jango spoke about Jedi to the Alphas, he had emphasized their remoteness. They were mystical warriors with strange powers, detached from ordinary concerns - though, he emphasized, not invulnerable to them. 17 had certainly seen Jedi accomplish any number of astonishing feats and heard enough about their strange philosophies to last a lifetime, but war had a way of forging bonds that cut across differences. He'd certainly never expected to become close enough to Jedi to count them among his friends. 

_And you'd like to be even closer with one of them,_ some treacherous part of his brain reminded him. 17 quashed that line of thought with extreme prejudice. Shaak probably wasn't trying to read his mind, but one could never be too careful. 

"Do you miss being out in the field?" Shaak asked abruptly, when they had finished dissecting the cadets' performance on the obstacle course. 17 shrugged. 

"I like this posting," he said. 

"That's not an answer." 

17 sat back in his chair, taking a moment to think about it. 

"Yes," he said finally. "But what we're doing - it's important. I know I can have a bigger impact training the command cadets here than I could as a single trooper out there." 

"I see," said Shaak. She fell silent for a moment, and when she spoke again it was back to business. "So, about Domino Squad…" 

_ 

**TO: arc.a17@gar.mil**

**FROM: kenobi@jedi.pub**

**RE: Special Assignment**

Captain, 

I'm reaching out to request your help with the 212th's next mission. I find myself in need of someone with your exceptional skillset. This is not an order, and you should feel free to decline if you think it would interfere excessively with your duties on Kamino. 

I can't give you all the details now, but I will brief you fully should you choose to accept, as I hope you will. If you decline, Captain Maze will take your place - but I would much rather work with you. 

May the Force be with you, 

OWK 

_ 

The plan was simple. Separatist agents had taken control of a spaceport on Commenor and turned its formidable defenses against the Republic. Obi-Wan and 17 would infiltrate the facility and disable the automated defense systems, at which point the 212th, under Cody's command, would press the attack. 

Like all simple plans, it went to hell almost immediately. 

" _Open_ , damn you!" Through treachery or sheer incompetence, the _di'kutla_ Commenorian official had given them the wrong codes for the security center doors. 17 shook his head. 

"Your 'saber can cut through this, right?" 

"Yes," said Obi-Wan, "but it's a little - _nngh_ \- busy at the moment!" His speech was punctuated by the high-energy whine of a deflected blaster bolt. 

Abandoning the door panel, 17 turned and aimed his rifle at the oncoming droids. At this distance, he hardly had to aim; he downed three droids in as many shots, and Obi-Wan's saber sent any blasterfire that might have hit them back into the crowd of their attackers. But for every battle droid they destroyed, three more came around the corner, and even a Jedi Master's tireless defense couldn't keep them safe forever. 

As if in confirmation of his thoughts, a half-dozen thermal detonators flew toward them. Obi-Wan raised a hand and they bounced away as if hitting an invisible wall - but that instant's distraction turned deadly. A single bolt slipped past Obi-Wan's saber and struck him, knocking him to the ground. 

_No! Not Obi-Wan -_

17 stepped in front of him, rifle at the ready. No time to check on Obi-Wan, no time even to think. Alone, exposed, with his back to the wall, 17 knew he'd last a minute at most, even in his armor - but he would damn well go down fighting. 

"Maintenance...panel..." Obi-Wan gasped behind him, pushing himself up on hands and knees. 

17 glanced over. On the wall of the corridor, just above floor-level, was a maintenance hatch. As he watched, an invisible hand wrenched it out of place, revealing a dark hole beyond. 

Obi-Wan was already crawling for the hatch. 17 backed toward it, firing into the crowd of droids, using his armored body as a shield until Obi-Wan was inside and then ducking in after him. The hatch slammed shut behind them. 

The maintenance crawlspace was dark, cramped, and musty-smelling, but the hatch cover was evidently thick enough to block blasterfire. It wouldn't do much against a grenade, though. 

"We have to get moving," said Obi-Wan. "It won't hold forever." 17 flicked on his helmet light. 

"Where are you hurt?" 

"I'm fine." 

"I didn't ask how you were," 17 said tersely, "I asked _where you were hurt_ , because I know you are." 

Obi-Wan sucked in a breath, and 17 could tell he was about to argue. 

" _Please_ , Obi-Wan," he said. 

Obi-Wan stilled, looking intently back at 17. There was a long scrape across Obi-Wan's right cheekbone and blood was drying in his beard. 17 was seized by the mad desire to take off his helmet; it seemed obscene, somehow, that he could see Obi-Wan's face while his own remained hidden. 

_The mission_ , he reminded himself. _Focus on the mission_. 

"You called me Obi-Wan." 

"Where are you hurt?" 17 asked again, forcing the conversation back into familiar territory. This time, Obi-Wan answered. 

"Cracked a rib, I think," he said, "but the armor took most of it. I'll be fine. Captain-" 

17 cut him off. 

"We should move, then." 

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, then closed it again - the Negotiator, speechless. 

"Lead the way," said Obi-Wan, and 17 turned and crawled onward into the dark. 

_ 

The crawlspace clearly hadn't been designed for beings with an ARC trooper's broad shoulders, especially not when you took armor into account. 17 was almost embarrassingly grateful when he emerged from the crawlspace and could finally stand up. 

The room they found themselves in was thankfully deserted. A large monitor took up one wall, displaying slowly shifting columns of numbers; a computer console and chair below it were the only other furniture in the room. 

"Well, this solves our problems rather nicely," said Obi-Wan. 

17 turned to look. Obi-Wan's lips twitched up in a self-satisfied smile. 

"This is the auxiliary reactor control room," he continued. "Rather foolish of them not to secure the maintenance hatches better, but you can hardly expect great attention to detail from your average Separatist commander." 

"Are you suggesting we rig the reactor to blow?" 17 asked. "It would be tricky to bypass the safety shutoff from here, but we might be able to." It had possibility, but Obi-Wan's plans weren't usually quite so...destructive. 

"Not quite," Obi-Wan answered. "In fact, I'm counting on the safety shutoff. If we destabilize the reactor -" 

"- it'll shut down automatically, and the shields and turrets will go down with it." 17 grinned under his helmet. "Good plan, sir." 

Obi-Wan was already typing at the console. 17 stood behind him while he worked, keeping an eye on the door. 

"That should do it," Obi-Wan said at last. "Now we just wait for the cavalry." He sat down heavily on the chair, then winced and pressed a hand to his side. 

"Can they trace the command to this room?" 

Obi-Wan shook his head. 

"They'll have bigger problems." 

The overhead lights flickered and went out - the reactor's automatic shutdown had kicked in. The monitor stayed lit, evidently running on its own backup system. In the soft bluish light, Obi-Wan's pale face seemed almost luminous. 

"You, of all people, don't have to call me 'sir'," said Obi-Wan. 

17 took off his helmet, met Obi-Wan's gaze with his own. 

"After Rattatak, I was...concerned," Obi-Wan continued. "Given the military hierarchy and the, ah, particular relationship between the Jedi Order and you and your brothers - I didn't want you to feel obligated." 

"Obi-Wan," 17 said, "you have never asked me for anything I didn't want to give." 

17 leaned slowly, deliberately forward. A half-hysterical voice in his head was reminding him of all the ways this could go wrong, but Jango had trained the Alphas to be fearless, even if this situation was very, very far from anything covered in training. 

He kissed Obi-Wan softly at first, then hungrily, and Obi-Wan reached a hand up to pull him in closer. 

_

**TO: kenobi@jedi.pub**

**FROM: ti@jedi.pub**

**RE: Invitation**

Obi-Wan, 

Captain Alpha has proposed that we invite other Jedi to Kamino for short stints as guest instructors for the command cadets, and I am inclined to agree. As he pointed out, Jedi fighting styles differ widely, and exposure to a variety of Jedi will better prepare the cadets to adapt to serving with their generals in the field. My own techniques are far from representative of the Order as a whole! 

He suggested I reach out to you first and said he is certain you will be interested. Let me know when you next have leave. 

May the Force be with you, 

Shaak 

**Author's Note:**

> (V/r stands for "very respectfully" - signoff commonly used in the US Navy, among other places.)


End file.
